


His Rose

by Mad_Dream



Category: Snow Like Ashes Series - Sara Raasch
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Character Death, Dark, Enemy Lovers, Gen, M/M, Manipulation, Mildly Dubious Consent, Mind Control, Minor Violence, Possessive Behavior, Possessive Sex, Shameless Smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-05
Updated: 2020-10-05
Packaged: 2021-03-08 00:54:16
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Major Character Death, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,390
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26826937
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Mad_Dream/pseuds/Mad_Dream
Summary: In the Emperor's garden he ruled them all. In the Emperor's garden only one ruled him. His Rose was his and his alone. And no one would ever take him away again.Alternate Universe/ending where Angra wins the end of the "Snow Like Ashes" series. All of Primoria is under Angra's control with no one questioning his authority. And after a long day of politics, he returns home to Cordell to enjoy his greatest prize of all.Slight Spoilers if you haven't read the first book.
Relationships: Angra/Theron Haskar, past meira/Theron
Comments: 3
Kudos: 2





	His Rose

**Author's Note:**

> Please note that there is some mildly dubious consent and minor violence in this text. If you do not enjoy reading this, please take care and do not harm your well being by reading further. 
> 
> I hope you enjoy and please let me know what you think below. Thank you!

To rule among beasts means to rule among pawns. Without them, a king was as weak as a lamb brought for slaughter. No one would stand with a ruler who was timid nor would anyone stand for a ruler who pushed his subjects away. Angra knew that better than anyone. It was the first real lesson the world taught him. 

Even after all this time, he remembered it well. He had rallied all the resources a prince, with barely any hair on his chin, could gather and traveled to every continent in Primoria. He spoke of the horrors the King of Spring spread in Abril, offered expensive gifts, used every ounce of reason he had in pursuit of a drop of support to uproot the tyrant. When that didn't work, he had swallowed his pride and knelt at leaders' feet, begged, groveled, offered parts of himself until he was sure there was nothing left. Years of negotiating to deaf ears only to be used in the end. Just like his mother had.

The ghost of his mother's gentle smile made Angra come back to himself. His fingers flexed around his onyx staff as he eyed the war room. Not a inch of wall was seen with his legion of guards scaling the sides of the room while his war council sat around a ivory table in the center of the room, looking up at him with baited breath. The Winter palace was not Angra's traditional choice of a meeting place. While the kingdom was right on top of the source of his power and left the other kingdoms turning to him for more, it did little to quell Angra's unease. 

Under his reign, all Rhythm and Season kingdoms were united. Trade of commodities had flourished; education and magical institutions spread throughout the poorest regions; and his law enforcers--the Delphiniums--had crushed any and all resistance groups against his rule. The very thought of rebellion was an instant sentence to torture under the Delphiniums' deadly crusade. And since Angra had joined his soul with the magical caverns below, he could feel down to the heartbeat of his subjects. He was all that the young Spring prince from years ago wished for and more.

And yet...

"My Emperor?" Queen Giselle prompted. "Shall we cease the tax clause? I believe the remaining villages among the plains would be much more reciprocating of our technological advancements," she flashed a glare at Queen Raelyn, "without an army breathing down their necks." 

Raelyn scoffed and crossed her arms. "They need to remember who they owe their lives too." 

Angra eyed her and his council more closely. Giselle, one of the first rulers to bow to his reign, had taken hold of the more economic matters of Primoria while Raelyn...well Raelyn was the embodiment of his Delphiniums. Eager to please, she led the first and second purges to wipe out the remaining rebel forces that plotted against him. A few of his council grunted their approval of Raelyn's comment. While normally he would encourage such rage and blood thirst in his generals, a certain thorn in his side reminded him otherwise. 

"No," he said, the room growing silent. "Queen Giselle makes a fair point. We do need living subjects to continue improving as an empire."

His council nodded while Raelyn stiffened in her seat, glaring at him. 

"I think you should reconsider, my Emperor," she said. "We should take any opportunity to reinforce your rule when we can."

Angra pursed his lips in amusement. "Believe me, Queen Raelyn, that is already being done. With much less bloodshed compared to your agenda." 

Raelyn snorted. "I doubt Giselle's plan is any--"

"Thanks to my right hand's handling of affairs," Angra said. 

At her splutter, Angra had to bite down on his cheek to hide a grin. The mention of his other half left Raelyn sinking back in her chair, red splotching her cheeks. Still sore about not being chosen, Angra mused. He brushed her pitiful gaze aside and rose from the table.

"If no one else has anything to discuss, I have other matters to attend to." He said. 

His council scrambled to their feet and bowed in his direction. He waved a hand at them dismissively, turning on his heel. His guards followed right behind him as he trekked down the hollow halls of ice and ivory. Even when filled with Winterians and Spring soldiers alike, the halls were still filled with haunting echoes. The curses of past queens, he mused as he descended through the palace. 

His mind wandered to his last visit with the Winter queen in the cell lying in the heart of the magic caverns. Chained to towers of dark magic, her skin had lost its human glow. Her skin clung to her bones, her white hair now a dull gray. At a glance, she was an old mage rather than a young woman at her prime. To Angra's mild disappointment, she no longer spoke as she did once before. The storm in her heart had tapered with every dead ally he brought to her. She cursed him then. Threatened to skin him alive and tear him apart from the inside out when she got out. 

It was amusing, their game was, to Angra. Watching her decay from a supercilious ruler to the baser, primal animal he knew everyone was in the depth of their hearts. But their were only two visits that remained with him. The first, Angra had shared the dwindling numbers of her resistance. She showed no reaction until he recalled how his Rose--his right hand--had cut them down himself. The girl had a flicker of pain, remorse even, and then turned away stating that he was no longer her concern. 

Her flippant dismissal of had made something deep in him stir. Something he thought had died so long ago. He couldn't put a finger on what it was, emotions were so fleeting to him now. But whatever she had pressed that day led him to their second visit--with the severed head of the former Winter king thrown into her cell. Her crying had lasted for weeks, months, until utter silence consumed her. 

Angra knew he no longer had a use for her, but the satisfaction of watching the Decay drain her life was too sweet to give up. Especially when he had his Rose by his side. 

"My Emperor," one of his men said. The solider nodded to the crystalline door before them. 

Angra looked up at the door before him and tapped his staff on the ground. The crystals of the door began to bend into a whirl of color as the group walked through. The white landscape of Januarri melted behind them while golden rays of light shined down from above. Angra blinked in the dark titian and mauve that bled across the horizon. They had made it in time to see the last of the sun sink beneath the trees, leaving the leaves glistening in gold. 

As Angra and his men left the portal and made through the palace, Angra couldn't help his curious gaze follow the people milling about both in and outside the palace walls. It wasn't Abril, but Cordell's scenery did grow on him. It's people however, were too...happy for his tastes. He could feel shops beginning to close, people returning home to families, and more of the nightly institutions beginning to open for the evening. Though he ruled with a firm law with magic coursing through Primoria's veins, he allowed his Rose some freedom in how to rule. Though thanks to his right hand's more gentle touch, Angra's rule was much more accepted among the people. A fact he would never admit out loud.

He eventually dismissed his guard once they reached his quarters. As he entered his rooms, the uneasiness roiling in him finally began to wane. He shrugged his cloak from his shoulders, setting his staff in its holster in the corner of the room before collapsing into a chair before the vanity. Angra set to undoing the ornaments he wore for his uniform when he felt arms wrap around him.

Angra couldn't help the grin curling at the corner of his lips and reached up to squeeze the arms engulfing him.

"Hello to you too," Angra said. 

The nest of dark golden curls tickled Angra's cheek. Theron nuzzled his face in the crook of his neck and hummed deeply.

"Missed you," Theron mumbled.

Angra chuckled. "I was only gone for a few hours."

"A few hours too long." 

Theron brushed his lips against Angra's cheek, pressing firmly against his skin. Angra silently berated himself for the way his heart skipped a beat while Theron took to undoing the ornaments adorning him. 

"Did the meeting go as planned?" Theron asked, setting the floral pins and medals into their designated holdings. 

"Yes and no." Angra replied. "We would have been finished sooner had Raelyn not have tried to push for another purge."

Theron frowned. "Of course she did." He moved to Angra's hair, undoing the pins that held his hair back. Pale blonde locks fell to Angra's shoulders. "Let me guess. She said that people need to remember their place."

"It's like you can read her mind." Angra said.

"No. She's just predictable." Theron took to brushing Angra's hair back from his face and kissed his forehead. Angra's breath hitched under his soft gaze. His words came in a hushed whisper, "But you don't need fear to rule. You defeated the Ice Queen and brought us together. You're a savior, Angra." 

Angra smirked. That little tweak in memory was fun to spread across the kingdoms. Especially when the Winter queen realized she had no one to turn to. Theron pressed another kiss to his forehead, as if anything harsher than that would break him. Angra took one of Theron's hands and pressed his lips to his knuckles.

"The real savior is you Beloved." Angra said. "You're the only reason why anyone even signed the treaty."

Theron spluttered and flushed at his words. He began to ramble about how Angra's conquests shaped their growing world, how his magic filled the people with hope. On anyone else, it would be sad. But from Theron, Angra mused, it was adorable. Angra leaned back into the man and closed his eyes. He let his scent of crisp, fallen leaves engulf him. He was no longer in the palace or bore the weight of the the emperor's crown. He was surrounded by Spring's never ending garden maze. The first rays of dawn washing over his face. And smiling down on him was the gentle smile of his mother, reflected on the lips that now brushed over his brow. 

Where Angra was pain, Theron was care. Theron was towering strength and power reigned in by a gentleness that left Angra weak at the knees. The embodiment of the future he envisioned as a child. The future he and his mother had wanted for Abril. He hadn't noticed when Theron went silent. Angra opened his eyes again, his gaze softening on Theron's face. He only noticed the squeeze around his shoulders as Theron looked sheepishly at him in the vanity mirror.

"Come to bed with me?" Theron knew he wouldn't be denied, but the Emperor of Primoria was never to be ordered. Even by his right hand.

He reached up to cup his cheek, practically purring at the innocent request.

"Of course, my Rose." Angra said.

* * *

The night was a blur of cold from the breeze that blew through their rooms and heat from the fire burning between them. Their clothes had been shed and tossed to the floor while their bodies tumbled into bed. Angra crushed their lips together, burying his hands in Theron's hair as he rolled him onto his back. Theron keened under the attention. 

"Angra," Theron said, a rosy red blush dusted over his tanned skin. 

Angra growled at the way his name sounded on Theron's tongue. He littered his chest with open mouth kisses, trailing his tongue from the sculpted plain of his chest to his stomach. He paused once he reached his groin. Angra licked his lips as he grasped Theron's length. He shivered at how soft it felt, practically melting under his touch, before taking it into his mouth. Theron choked on a gasp. He struggled to sit up and reached for Angra.

"Don't," Theron struggled to find words. "Don't do that."

Angra flicked his pale green eyes at him. "Oh, and why not?"

Theron's face burned from how much he blushed. "It's not proper! I should be the one servicing you."

Angra ignored the way his chest swelled. He leaned up, kissing Theron hard as he stroked his hardening length. Theron whimpered into the kiss. 

"You do much more than service me beloved." Angra said. 

He pushed Theron onto his back, straddling his lap. He rubbed Theron's length against the swell of his rear. A wide grin split across Angra's face at the sight of Theron shaking under him. Angra clenched his eyes shut and forced himself to relax as he felt slick liquid moisten his entrance. On other nights, he would take his time to prepare for Theron. But seeing the man helpless beneath him only pushed Angra to have him inside as soon as possible. 

Once the magic had loosened him considerably, he placed Theron at his puckered hole and gently pushed. He winced, both pushing Theron in deeper while brushing his own length against Theron's abdomen. The friction made sparks fly up and down his body. Angra continued to sink down onto Theron until he felt his balls brushing against his rear.

Angra tossed his head back with a moan. His body ached at the way he was stretched. Yet the burn was dwarfed by the feel of fullness--a rich sensation that made his body yearn for more. More than that however, was the look of utter rapture that bloomed on Theron's face. Half lidded eyes gazed up at Angra as if in a trance. Dark brown eyes glittered in wonder, lust, and--to Angra's delight--adoration.

A shiver raced down Angra's body and he squeezed around Theron's length. Theron hissed, arching his back as Angra rolled his hips. Angra watched as Theron crumbled beneath him. Every nibble, every touch, every squeeze left the man groaning wantonly. A part of Angra wanted to project this image to the Winter queen. To flaunt how her past lover served his emperor dutifully and was rewarded tenfold. 

"Angra," Theron's moan sent a shock through Angra's body. He licked his lips and pleaded, "Please."

Angra trembled, his resolution disappearing as quickly as it appeared. Theron's eyes, normally flooded with lust and rage, were clear. Striking him still with their beauty. And looking at him--only him. No, Angra resolved. This sight was his and his alone.

"I'm sorry, my Rose," Angra pecked Theron's cheek. "Let me make you warm."

He rolled his hips again, smacking his rear against Theron's bare thighs. Theron choked on a scream as Angra rode him viciously, leaving no room for anything but moans. He gasped and whimpered Angra's name like a prayer with abandon.

"Please," Theron cried. "Please I--"

Angra groaned, feeling the tip of Theron's length knock into his sweet spot. "Yes! Yes Theron, please."

Angra felt hands wrap around his hips and slam him down hard. The electric jolt that buzzed through him made Angra melt. He clawed at Theron's chest as the man thrusted upwards, burying himself to the hilt. They melted into a flurry of limbs and teeth. Desperate to taste more of each other. Stars burst behind Angra's eyelids, each push and pull between them sending him closer to the edge. Angra pulled back, pale blonde hair spilling down his back. 

"Theron," he groaned. "Tell me you're mine."

Theron's fingers dug into his hip. "I'm yours."

Angra felt the flames fanning in his stomach and pressed on. "Again. Say it again."

Theron's free hand reached to grab a fistful of Angra's hair. He pulled him flush against his chest, swallowing his emperor's moans in a kiss. As Angra melted, Theron tilted them over with Angra on his back and Theron over him. Theron carded their fingers together, his other hand holding Angra's hip firm as he pounded into him.

Angra screamed between kisses. His length brushing against Theron's abdomen. He held onto the man for dear life as his body was assaulted by warmth and numbing pleasure he never imagined he'd get to feel in his lifetime. All the while, Theron chanted, "I'm yours forever. Everything I am belongs to you. Body. Heart. And soul."

Angra spasmed beneath Theron. A small inkling of fear trickled into his sub conscious. The feeling of being mercilessly pounded into while he eagerly spread his legs for more terrified him. He shouldn't want someone so much. Shouldn't feel his world revolve around one man. Shouldn't need to hear--

Theron grasped him by the neck. He looked down on him, pinning him to the spot as he whispered, "Yours."

A shock ran through Angra so terribly painful and pleasurable all at once. He silently screamed, feeling the weight of the world crashing around him as he peaked. He could only imagine the trembling mess he had become, but for once he didn't care. Especially as the beautiful creature above him fell apart with a throaty groan. 

Theron rolled onto his side, blind grasping for Angra. After molding Angra into him, he nestled his face in into his blonde locks. Angra hummed against Theron's tan skin. He savored the way Theron's warmth thrummed against him until felt that delicious length soften awkwardly inside him. Angra looked up to tell Theron to remove himself, but his breath caught in his throat.

Theron gazed down at him with a small smile. His eyes glittering gold from the way the moonlight washed over them. He traced Angra's cheek with his thumb.

"I love you," he said softly. 

And just like that, his warmth turned cold.

Angra wrenched himself out of Theron's grasp and rolled towards the opposite side of the bed. Angra felt a weight in his chest as Theron sat up.

"I'm sorry. I didn't mean to upset you," Theron said. He babbled on. Apology after apology filling the space between them until Theron's voice teetered into silence. "I'll go."

He turned to slide from the bed when a hand clasped his arm. Angra didn't bother looking over, the silent command enough to lull the man back into bed. He felt him wrap his arms around his midsection timidly. Testing him, Angra realized until Theron curled up behind him.

The weight in his chest grew heavier. Angra chided himself on such childish thoughts. Had it been any of his other followers, Angra would have sent them away. They were all too dependent for him. Needy for gratification. But with the way Theron's scent engulfed him, all he could do was lay there limply.

Somewhere, in the back of his mind, he could hear the ghost of his father growl in disgust. The one thing he had carried from the bastard of a man was that he only needed himself and himself alone. And yet here he was, desperate for a pawn's attention.

No. Not attention.

The words of "I love you" burned the skin that Theron breathed against. Love. Angra scoffed. He had seen every memory and emotion that coursed in Theron's head. Manipulated what needed to be seen and erased what wasn't necessary in their rule together. Angra blanched at the thought. If that feeling was there, it was because he put it there.

Angra closed his eyes and saw the Winter queen in her cell. She stared off into emptiness of her prison. Desolate. Alone. 

Like him.

Angra shook his head, grasping the strong arms wrapped around him. It didn't matter. Theron was his most powerful weapon. Emotions, sweet and bitter, fueled his being. So what if he took a tiny fragment of it for himself. He deserved it as he did everything in Primoria. He was Emperor of the New World--protector of freedom and justice. He was allowed to to have this. 

Even if his Rose's love wasn't his.


End file.
